I have decided to shave my head.
It's not a knee jerk decision or a reaction to anything in particular. It is something I have always wanted to do, to experience the sensation of wind on my skull, the freedom of no hair to wash, brush or prep.
But it is, somehow a little scary! And that interests me....
I have found myself concerned that I won't look 'feminine' enough, that I won't be 'pretty' enough...for what or whom I don't know!!
People keep asking me what my husband thinks about it, which is also interesting....(he has a shaved head by the way!)....my eldest son is NOT happy with the idea at all as he thinks people won't recognise me, and he is concerned that when Gav and I are sitting on the couch and he approaches us from behind, he won't be able to tell us apart. Hint: I am the one wearing earrings and with breasts.
So, the whole thing has gotten me thinking about ego. That part of us that identifies with something like having long hair as defining who we are. I cut my hair short once before when I was 21 and living in Canada. It was like a snake shedding it's skin, a peeling off of old clothes and expectations of myself - I was, for the first time in my life living as me - nobodies daughter or girlfriend or sister - and cutting my blonde hair off at the point of dark regrowth was like cutting an umbilical cord. It was one of the first times in my life I felt real freedom. I realised that this was my life and I could wear, kiss, eat, go, do, create, choose whatever I wanted!
Maybe I need reminding of that.
I read a great post recently about how as mothers we often find ourselves putting on a 'mum uniform' - and I think it happens on many levels. Behaving how we think we should, saying the right things, dressing appropriately - it's all the same! It is us trying to be right. To be good. Now there is nothing wrong with good or appropriate, but maybe sometimes it gets in the way of true or authentic. Of expression and bravery. I am a very aesthetic person - I love beauty and colour and eye candy in all forms, but I think I love real more. And I think, metaphorically and follicle-ly, I just don't want any hair getting in my eyes.
It's not a knee jerk decision or a reaction to anything in particular. It is something I have always wanted to do, to experience the sensation of wind on my skull, the freedom of no hair to wash, brush or prep.
But it is, somehow a little scary! And that interests me....
I have found myself concerned that I won't look 'feminine' enough, that I won't be 'pretty' enough...for what or whom I don't know!!
People keep asking me what my husband thinks about it, which is also interesting....(he has a shaved head by the way!)....my eldest son is NOT happy with the idea at all as he thinks people won't recognise me, and he is concerned that when Gav and I are sitting on the couch and he approaches us from behind, he won't be able to tell us apart. Hint: I am the one wearing earrings and with breasts.
So, the whole thing has gotten me thinking about ego. That part of us that identifies with something like having long hair as defining who we are. I cut my hair short once before when I was 21 and living in Canada. It was like a snake shedding it's skin, a peeling off of old clothes and expectations of myself - I was, for the first time in my life living as me - nobodies daughter or girlfriend or sister - and cutting my blonde hair off at the point of dark regrowth was like cutting an umbilical cord. It was one of the first times in my life I felt real freedom. I realised that this was my life and I could wear, kiss, eat, go, do, create, choose whatever I wanted!
Maybe I need reminding of that.
I read a great post recently about how as mothers we often find ourselves putting on a 'mum uniform' - and I think it happens on many levels. Behaving how we think we should, saying the right things, dressing appropriately - it's all the same! It is us trying to be right. To be good. Now there is nothing wrong with good or appropriate, but maybe sometimes it gets in the way of true or authentic. Of expression and bravery. I am a very aesthetic person - I love beauty and colour and eye candy in all forms, but I think I love real more. And I think, metaphorically and follicle-ly, I just don't want any hair getting in my eyes.
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